


Set in Starlight

by roswyrm



Category: Rusty Quill Gaming (Podcast)
Genre: Afterlife, Fields of Asphodel, Gen, HOLY SHIT SO MANY ROME SPOILERS, SO MANY SPOILERS FOR ROME, Spoilers, long live the goblin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-04
Updated: 2019-07-04
Packaged: 2020-06-03 18:58:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19470112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roswyrm/pseuds/roswyrm
Summary: A spirit wanders the fields.





	Set in Starlight

**Author's Note:**

> Working Title: _this is only tragic if i think about it and luckily i can't think_

A spirit is wandering the fields. “Sasha!” A spirit is wandering the fields. “I’ve only got five minutes, where are you?” A spirit is wandering the fields. “Oh for God’s sake where is– _SASHA!”_ A spirit is kept from wandering the fields when a pair of small arms wrap tight around its waist. 

“Alright?” the spirit asks, and her voice isn’t crackly from disuse because she is dead, and the dead don’t worry about that sort of thing. 

A too-lively spirit bristling with moonbeams and forest undergrowth beams up at her. “Pretty good, yeah! How are you?” Sasha looks at him, really _looks_ at him, drops to her knees, and hugs him back. “There you are,” Grizzop says into her chest, “hey, Sasha. Took you ages to die!”

“Grizzop,” Sasha says, “you’re here, you’re here, I– I’m sorry, I should have saved you, why didn’t you just let me take the hit—”

Grizzop shushes her, brings a moss-covered hand up to stroke at the back of her head. “It’s alright now,” he says, and it’s the softest she’s heard him, “it’s alright, we’re both here.” And Sasha hasn’t cried this much in fifty years, hasn’t thought of Grizzop in however long it’s been since she died, hasn’t wanted to hold someone so tightly _ever._ “I need to get back to the Hunt,” Grizzop says, and Sasha knows it’s a goodbye but she doesn’t want to lose him.

“Artemis gave you a constellation,” she says instead of letting go, broken and teary and snotty into his lichen-covered armour, “I looked up and saw it– you’re set in the stars, Grizzop.”

And Grizzop laughs (or maybe cries, she doesn’t know) and whispers, “Goblinus Majoris.”

“Goblinus _Minoris,”_ Sasha corrects, sounding almost affronted through the lump in her throat, “you’re very little.”

“Everyone looks bigger in the sky. I’ve met Orion, he’s skinnier than you are. No muscles. At all. Anywhere.” And Sasha laughs, and laughs, and laughs.

A spirit is wandering the fields. It is smiling.


End file.
